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The Honey Ginseng Shoppe/The House is Empty
Longjing tea- Dragon Well tea. The hour of the Dog- 7 PM to 9 PM. ---- Merana aligned the point of their knife with the grain of the bamboo board, slicing through the fresh greens with the bare minimum effort, wrist making microscopic rolls. The almost rhythmic impact of the knife against the board was the only sound in the room, other than the howling wind outside. It was wonderful how perfectly timed their movements were. The kettle started singing its signature not-quite-boiling rasp just as the last of the chopped-up winter greens were spread evenly on a big flat basket and shut into storage with the others. Merana jumped over to rake the ashes over the coals, the residual heat of the stove carrying the kettle over to a perfect boil and the embers being saved for another time. The kettle is carefully placed onto a well-worn coaster on the tray. Merana hangs up the tongs and grabs a few chipped cups from the dishware cupboard, along with the tea tin. They blow out the candle in the kitchen, and follow the flickering shadows until the brightly lit living room comes into view. The dark wood floors creak under their socked-and-slippered feet as they set the tray down onto the low table in the center of the room. Clerval perks up as he sees them coming in, rising from one of the pillows he was laying on, adjusting himself so that the puppy sleeping in his lap isn’t disturbed. The entire room is littered with floor pillows and blankets (and puppies). Thankfully, the fireplace has had multiple safety charms placed on it. They make small talk as Merana flicks the water from the kettle into their cups and they wait for the leaves to steep. Clerval gets up to poke at the fireplace and Merana wraps themselves in a blanket. It’s a comfortable silence; it’s cozy to be in a warm house with puppies while a snowstorm rages outside. When it’s time to actually drink the tea though, Merana makes a face. “I don’t like bitter tea…” they mumble petulantly through a mouthful of tea. Clerval laughs and blows into his own cup. “I told you you added too many leaves.” For him, the blend is perfectly balanced. The longjing is the most apparent, but jasmine and mint have been added too. It’s delightfully floral in the way he knows Merana dislikes, and the bitterness is refreshing. Adding any of the honey or fresh milk Merana seems to adore so much only serves to make all those tastes one-dimensional. Merana sighs and flops over, leaving their half-full cup on the table. “It’s so boring to be a holiday and have no actual celebrations! Do you think they’ll be back soon?” Clerval hums, pouring himself some more water. “I agree. They said they’d be back before the hour of the Dog, but I didn’t expect that promise to be kept. At this rate we’ll all need to go to bed. Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” He swishes his cup around before setting it down, hands drifting back to pet the dog in his lap absentmindedly. “I want to make hot chocolate, but they’ll definitely want some too. But then it’ll get cold if they don’t get home soon enough, 'cause I don't want to have to make two sets of hot chocolate, and then someone’s going to try heating it up with magic and then it’ll explode and we’ll have to buy more cups.” They huff, and one of the smallest puppies trots up to lick at their arm, bored of playing with its littermates. Clerval doesn’t have time for a reply before the door makes its distinctive key clicking sound and Shua stomps into the hallway, shaking snow onto the mat, arms full of brown paper packages tied with colorful ribbons. “We’re all back!” She calls cheerfully, tossing the packages haphazardly towards the living room. After landing them all in a neat pile (by the gods, how did she manage that?), she was off shrugging off her padded cotton coat and disappearing into the coat room. She emerges, now boot-less and coat-less and takes a running leap, landing so close to the fire Clerval almost has a heart attack. “Oh dear gods! Shua!” “Yeyyyyyyyy!” Merana makes a half-hearted, strangled sound and wriggles herself out of her blankets, forgoing the slippers and heading straight for the kitchen. The puppy scampers after her, tripping on its own tail. Everyone trickles in, and the house slowly becomes less empty. Category:Fanfiction Category:Original Character Fanfiction Category:Donut's Stuff Category:An Account of Donut